


Cynical Solitude

by place0701



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Gen, Masturbation, Other, Smut, Solo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 05:31:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15789936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/place0701/pseuds/place0701
Summary: Taeil finally finds himself with some peace and quiet! An arousing tale of self-service and relaxing release.Basically several paragraphs detailing a very cranky Taeil jerking off in the room he shares with Taeyong. No one asked for this. Sorry, not sorry.





	Cynical Solitude

**Author's Note:**

> Posted this once before, probably a year ago. I deleted it, due to the unnecessarity of a thing like this even existing. But fuck it once again! I thoroughly enjoy a nice, healthy, relaxing solo session. I think this is.. beautiful. Enjoy, my fellow dirty rotten harlots. *kisses*

Taeil harshly closes the door behind him, tossing his bag haphazardly onto the bed. He sighs, his mind buzzing, head still feeling full with the day's stresses. As soon as he enters the solitude of his room at the end of each day, he feels more free, no longer under surveillance. But even then he just can't shake the thoughts humming at his forefront. His feet hurt. His left shoulder is stiff. He can feel a pimple coming to a head on his cheek. He thinks there's an eyelash in his eye. A bit of a hypochondriac and chronic complainer, maybe. But on top of the fatigue, Doyoung wouldn't stop shouting at Yuta all the way home. Apparently something they said was REALLY funny. Taeil wished he could pay them to shut up and wipe the smirks off their smug faces. It was almost worth handing over the 10,000 won he kept on him at all times. Their obnoxious laugher made Taeil's head pound.   
He rubs his eye until the bothersome lash has been freed. Then reaching to his shoulder, he palms it, circling the sore muscle. Groaning for a moment, Taeil closes his eyes. He’s unable to recall how this one shoulder became particularly tender. Doesn't matter, he thinks. Sleep it off.   
He lifts one aching foot, balancing while lazily pulling his sock off by it’s toe, followed by the other. He tosses them under Taeyong's bed. "I hope they smell." He sputters under his breath, directing his bad mood at the undeserving roommate, who is nothing but kind to him. Taeil recognizes his negativity and takes it back. With a sorry expression he kicks the socks from Taeyong's side back to his own.  
"I gotta stop sputtering like this. You're home now, just chill out."  
Taeyong wasn't coming home tonight. Taeil forgets where he said he would be, but he'd probably be back by morning.  
Taeil trudges sorely back towards the door, leaning into in. He hears muffled jabber and laughter from the other side. He wonders how they're all still so lively at this hour.  
Still feeling cranky and anxious, Taeil sits his sad ass on the edge of his bed, staring towards the chattering door. Taeil hadn't always been this way, but for some time now he'd been one to live in his head. Always observing his surroundings and critiquing situations. It often became depressing, as his thoughts were generally pretty cynical. He would carefully calculate his words. Only speaking when necessary but sometimes something shocking would slip out. His true cynic shining through to the world. This is because Taeil is a relatively simple person, but is inflexible. His downfall is wanting things to be a certain way, when he knows they are not, and allowing his discontent to take over. Like the cameras always in his face. This was something Taeil was certain he'd never get used to. Or the screams. Oh god, how shrill the screams could be sometimes. No one could have prepared him for how exhausting noises and flashing lights could be.  
Another heavy exhale exits his weary lungs as he catapults himself backward. Hands placed delicately on his ribs, he just breathes. His bones feel heavy. Like they now anchor him to the plush bed beneath him. He wiggles his toes, feeling the cool air of the room. His eyes close once again as he resumes combing over racing thoughts.  
Then he remembers. Turning his head to the side, Taeil's eyes fly open. Taeyong's empty bed. Taeil is alone tonight. His heart begins to skip. Exciting thoughts of what he'd do next create a crash of chaos in his chest.  
Taeil casts himself forward, reaching for his bag. Frantically he digs through it until he makes contact with what he had sought after. Vaseline. And a handkerchief. Taeil was about to go to town on his dick. There was nothing that could clear his head and crush a bad mood faster than a good nut.  
He wastes no time rolling his pants down to his ankles. Shit. Lock the door, stupid. A funny sight it would have been had he not been alone. Taeil hobbled to the door once more, hurriedly kicking his pants off on the way. Once he had locked the door and ditched his pants he returned to the comfort of his bed. Digging three fingers into the petroleum jelly, he prepares. Happily, he begins to stroke himself. Once hard as can be he rummages through his memory. What did he usually think about when he had this much expendable time to get off? Usually he had to be quick and sneaky, but this time he could go all night if he wanted. Licking his lips, his eyes flutter closed. Precum leaks from the tip of his length as the wades through numerous erotic fantasies. He switches between them until he locates one that makes his dick twitch.  
Taeil wasn't the type to watch porn as he masturbated. It was far more pleasing to create his own image in his head. No restrictions on imagination.  
He continues to pump himself, imaging he's buried in a fat ass, his chest rising and falling as he quickens his pace. Huffs and gasps escape his lips as his nimble hand does it's work. "Fuuuck" he breathes, feeling near his release. Grabbing for his trusted hanky with his free hand, Taeil catches the mess. His back arches as he milks the last of his seed. Sweaty and worn out he remains sprawled out on the disheveled sheets, basking in complacency. No longer concerned with any aches, pains, inconveniences or unwanted thoughts. This was just what he needed.


End file.
